


can't do anything without you, can't do anything with you

by orphan_account



Category: Bates Motel (2013)
Genre: Gen, dylans pov, god i love dylan and norman, norman dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 09:36:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10761555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: dylan's point of view about most things.





	can't do anything without you, can't do anything with you

When Norman Bates died in my arms, a part of me died too. The barely beating part, on it’s last leg, holding on for dear life. 

 

All of that was stripped away, completely, in a matter of seconds. The part of me that barely held onto the hope that used to be Norman; the hopeful, shy boy who was always attached to his mother, had blown away like dust, never to be seen again. 

 

When I came back to Oregon after hearing the news that Norma had perished, anger boiled in my body. 

 

I felt betrayed that Norman had not considered calling me about it, like his own mother was his personal property, though it was the exact opposite.  
when I walked into Norma’s bedroom, the light leaking in and casting shadows on the floor of two intertwined bodies, mother and 18 year old son, I felt betrayed that my own mother didn’t treat me with as such love as she did her youngest.

 

When I received the phone call from a seemingly happy 22-year old Norman who was supposedly kidnapped by his stepfather and deemed missing, sounding like he was freshly 16 again, I felt betrayed that he had killed all those people and still managed to sound like he was happy, and wondered if he was ever going to be so again.

 

And when I finally built up enough courage to stand up after puking on the royal rug after seeing our mother’s preserved corpse, her cheeks stained with mascara, her once blue eyes that matched her son’s now opaque, staring, I felt betrayed that Norman could pretend that he wasn’t completely delusional by acting as if this was all normal.

 

Those blue eyes, once filled with curiosity, now knowing and glazed over would stare at me as he approached in a manner that seemed threatening. And my stomach tightened as I muttered pleads for him to put the knife down.  
He was looming over me with tears threatening to fall, and they did as he ran towards me and the sharp knife plunged into the wooden door frame above me head which, in return, caused me to shakily and loosely pull the trigger that would ultimately lead to my heart feeling like it was smashed with a sledgehammer. 

 

He leaned on me as I saw his knees buckle and his fingers dug into my arms as I whimpered and muttered apologies over and over. 

 

I lowered him to the ground as I still clutched him, crying into his shoulder as he rest his head in my arm. The feeling of his shaking body would be all I would have left of him for the rest of my life, besides the way he quietly whispered, “thank you,” as his body stilled in my arms.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope this didnt suck too much


End file.
